


you’re gonna carry that weight

by ta_pk



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Drama & Romance, F/M, Kind of a slow burn kind of not, Romance, a bit of angst, and Roxas is cool as a cucumber, basically it’s just Kairi being a self sabotaging idiot, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23398213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ta_pk/pseuds/ta_pk
Summary: "You don't get it. It's Roxas.""So? He's cute."She was being generous with that adjective. Very generous. I would've leaned more towards awkward and scruffy and gangly, like a Twizzler. But blonde and not as sweet.AU. R/K. Roxiri.
Relationships: Kairi & Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Kairi/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. a leap of faith.

I was panicking.

Correction: I had _been_ panicking, for all of yesterday afternoon, until it bled through the prospect of the new morning like a soaked band-aid over a healing cut.

I'd been cornered. Entirely burdened by an unexpected shock that twisted in my gut, the more I thought about it. And god, it hadn't stopped.

I carried the same weight with me, deep in my back pocket, as I tucked my uniform shirt in my jeans, and hurried to clock in for my shift.

I greeted the security guard, as I flashed my ID. An embarrassing photo that was taken nearly a year ago flashed up on his monitor as he verified my identification. I tapped my foot impatiently, and snatched my card back, before continuing my trek through the back lot of Destiny Islands Theme Park.

It was then that I saw the back of a familiar head.

"Xion!" I called out to my friend, breaking into a clumsy run, and nearly crashing into her when I caught up.

"Whoa, what's up? Did you get that extra shot in your coffee? I thought we said no to Starbucks runs during the week," Xion reprimanded.

I bent over panting, trying to catch my breath, before turning to look up at her. She had her hands on her hips and was staring down at me with a raised brow. I had never in my life been more relieved to see that expression on my best friend's face, even in the stupid, gaudy striped CornDog Hut uniform.

"There's something I need to tell you," I said urgently.

"Oh my god, are you pregnant?"

"What? No!"

"Hm, that's right, you haven't gotten laid in over a year."

"Xion!"

"Alright, alright I'm listening," she laughed.

I opened my mouth but the words were failing me. Xion turned to look at me, and suddenly the humor in her eyes was gone.

"Okay, you're freaking me out. Hold on." She dug through her pocket, pulling out a pair of keys. She then gestured for me to follow. I did, a bundle of stress and nerves and probably gas. We reached our CornDog Hut, and she quickly unlocked the back door, letting me slip in first.

I headed for the light switch, knowing the floor plan of the hut like the back of my hand. And immediately, as the light began to flood the building, I was bombarded with the events that had happened yesterday.

He had been standing right there, next to the corn dog size display, as he handed the paper that was currently sitting snugly in my back pocket. Solemn faced, but hand firmly outstretched.

_Why did I take it? Why didn't I just run like I wanted to? Why am I such a fucking idio –_

"What is it, Kairi?" Xion asked seriously.

I held my breath, pulling out the small square from my pocket, and shakily handing it to her. Xion's dark eyebrows pulled together, as her eyes flickered from the paper to me uncertainly. She took it.

"Roxas gave it to me."

I watched as she unfolded, eyes scouring the page. She sighed.

"I should've known better with your dramatic ass, dragging me in here and acting as if you've contracted some incurable disease."

"What do you think?" I asked, despite her scoff.

She scrutinized the paper once more, before handing it back to me.

"I'm pretty sure this means a date, Kairi."

I let out a loud, strangled groan.

"Wow, a guy wants to go on a date with you, it's not the end of the world, _K_ ," Xion muttered flatly. I tried to follow the folds of the square, but gave up and simply stuffed it in the back pocket of my jeans. "Meanwhile I can't even get a guy to look twice my way in this stupid uniform."

"You don't get it. It's _Roxas_."

"So? He's cute."

She was being generous with that adjective. Very generous. I would've leaned more towards awkward and scruffy and gangly, like a Twizzler. But blonde, and not as sweet.

"To you," I snapped severely. "Do you remember the first thing he said to us when we met him?"

Xion seemed to think about this for a moment before bursting out into laughter. "He asked if we were from India."

"I'm pretty sure that's crazy offensive. No I'm _positive_ it is," I fumed.

And it was just the tip of the iceberg to describe Roxas. How could one even begin to describe Roxas?

He was – well – unconventional to put it mildly. Meeting him was an encounter I knew I would never forget. He had just moved from the overnight shift, invading our little crew in the morning. When his official start date began, a part of me knew things were desperately about to change.

I was already recovering from the absence of one of my favorite coworkers, Selphie, leaving and now, Xion, on her way. The workload was suddenly about to be incredibly lopsided. And now with the end of the year holidays looming several weeks away, I had anticipated a spike in daily duties.

Roxas just seemed like an unfortunate detriment. His very first day on our shift, he neglected his uniform, instead opting for a shirt with the _mouth gaping open Patrick Star_ meme screen printed across his chest. I would have found the damn thing funny had it suddenly been the year 2013 again…and had I been a fucking idiot.

His language was foul, something that normally wouldn't bother me, considering I could occasionally let a few profanities slip through. But he had absolutely no qualms directing them at customers or our Lead Manager, Pence. He consistently refused to wear his name tag, much to our Lead's annoyance. He claimed that he didn't want people to know his identity, because the government was out to get him…or something.

To be honest, I wasn't sure how he still had a job here. Probably grandfathered into the system from so many years being at this dump. I didn't dare ask. I hardly ever spoke to him, which made this whole thing even more confusing.

I brought a hand to rub my forehead. A headache was beginning to form from this conversation.

"Did you text him?" Xion asked.

"What? Of course not," I exclaimed. "That's a door I definitely don't want to open."

"Hmm, because it's Roxas or…." Xion trailed off pointedly.

"Or what?" I asked sharply.

Xion watched me carefully, like I was this dainty, fragile little animal that needed to be spoken to with a your _inside voice_ lest you scare it away. I wanted to be angry for being treated this way, but I knew that was irrational. She knew the ins and outs of my thoughts and feelings. She knew me when I used to feel like myself. She was with me through college, living in that insufferably cramped dorm room, as we survived off of microwavable ramen.

Even after school, she had reluctantly followed me as I stumbled through my post grad depression in search for a summer job, just for us both to wind up at the local amusement park. An English Lit degree and four years later, just to serve up corn dogs for incredibly rude and overindulgent park guests.

I felt I owed it to her to not be such a bitch sometimes.

"I saw that they made it official," she said quietly.

But it was harder to resist the urge to make a snarky comment, the more she spoke. A large lump formed in my throat at the implication of her statement.

"So?"

"Kairi," Xion said. The tone was back. She sounded like my mother. An annoying trait that they both shared was their unfailing ability to force me into things that were _good_ for me. Or so they thought. It didn't really matter in the end; I trusted their sense of judgment, considering they were my best friends.

My only friends. Two whole friends, one of which was my own mother. My twenty's had never looked so pathetically lonely.

It wasn't always like this. My group of friends used to bigger. But things slowly started to fall apart. The thought was making me incredibly sad.

"You should text him back. Who knows? It could be fun. It doesn't have to mean anything. It could just be a casual thing."

And I was back to being offended.

Could be fun? Doesn't have to mean anything? Who did she think I was? Someone capable of just a simple hookup? Didn't she know me? I was the girl who would hopelessly pine after a stranger she barely made eye contact with in the produce section at the supermarket, and flushed at the feeblest accidental hand contact. Made playlists and imagined living in a goddamn music video. Gushed about the newest crushes in their diaries. _That_ girl.

Or, at least I used to be.

Still…not much has changed.

But before I could say anything, the door opened. For one horrifying second I thought it would be the damn devil himself to come bursting through the door. A small relieved sigh escaped my lips when I noticed that it was just Hayner, another coworker in the crew.

He grinned brightly when he saw us. Closing the door behind him, he joined us and I could smell the hair product coming closer. I glanced up, and sure enough, it was overly gelled and stiff. It was his trademark look. A look that hadn't been popular since Sugar Ray was a thing.

"Are we talking about Roxas asking you out?" He probed.

I choked as Xion giggled.

"How did you…?"

"I saw him give you something yesterday before clocking out. And, well, Roxas never gives anyone anything, so I just assumed," Hayner said with a shrug.

I felt for the note in my back pocket again.

The paper was an immeasurable load in my hands as I glanced down at it. I scanned it once more, and still, the heavy weight in the pit of my stomach was unrelenting.

' _I wanna ask you something (605) 475-6968'_

* * *

I wouldn't have agreed. I convinced myself I was ready to text him just to tell him I wasn't interested. I had even begun composing a really heartfelt text to soften the blow for the rejection. But then I found out it was his fucking birthday, and, well, of course I couldn't say no.

How could you say no to someone on their damn birthday?

And that was how I found myself sitting in the middle of traffic on the main interstate on a Monday night, in the pouring rain.

This was a bad idea. A bad, bad, bad idea.

I could practically hear a mixture of Xion and my mom's voices in my head opposing these pessimistic thoughts.

_Well, what did they know, really?_

I could already feel the stress sweat building beneath the chunky knit pullover I decided to wear. It exacerbated the perfume, filling up the confines of the car until a headache was beginning to form. My eyes kept glancing towards the clock on the center console screen.

7:45 pm.

I wasn't even close to the chosen meet up place. A movie theater. We were going to watch a movie. I was eternally grateful he hadn't expected me to go out to dinner with him.

A movie was fine, it was safe. A movie could totally be platonic.

A date could just be platonic, right?

My stomach clenched uncertainly at that thought.

_It wouldn't really be called a date then, dumb ass._

I was wrapped up in doubt with my decision. Perhaps if I had made it clear the moment we met up what my intentions were, things wouldn't feel so – shitty? I had no interest in dating him. I had no interest in dating anyone. The idea of relationships and love was all good and dandy until one was abandoned to experience it firsthand – the cruel consequences it left behind in its ruthless wake.

Something I wasn't ready to explore. No. Not again.

I was a single pringle ready to not mingle. And I was perfectly content.

Now, how to articulate that without sounding like a pretentious asshole?

How did I possibly begin to explain to Roxas that the reason I decided to go on this date was because I felt bad for saying no? That it was his birthday and I didn't want his 24th to be tarnished by my awful rejection? That it was a date spawned from my overly sympathetic nature? Basically a pity date?

_Still sounding like a pretentious asshole._

I let out a whiny groan, two seconds away from banging my head against the steering wheel.

The traffic was crawling at a snail's pace. I knew I would be losing time the moment I left the house a half hour later than what I intended. I cursed my lack of punctuality. An unfortunate trait I picked up from my father.

I sighed loudly through my nose, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel. My eyes kept going in and out of focus on the car's brake lights ahead of me the more it stopped. The traffic wasn't letting up. To make matters worse it had started to rain even harder.

I heard my phone vibrate on the seat beside me. And with clumsy multitasking, I pawed for it trying to keep my eyes on the motionless traffic.

I glanced hurriedly down at the text, feeling my chest thump at the name. It was him.

_Roxas: still coming?_

And in the midst of my internal debate, I felt a twinge of sadness as I read the text. So he doubted me too?

It really wasn't that much of a secret that Roxas wasn't well liked at the CornDog Hut amongst the other employees, especially management. I was sure there was a deeper reason behind his sudden move from night to day shift. People gave him a wide berth, as if his stupidity was contagious. No, no he wasn't stupid. It was just a small case of asshole. And I could understand that. There was a kind of insolence that he clung to that I almost admired.

You know, if I wasn't such a good-doer.

But regardless, being the ousted employee must be lonely.

I struggled to type out my response.

_So much traffic._

_Roxas: Ha bet._

He sent a gif of a laughing Pikachu. Another thing I could respect about him. His gif game was strong.

It didn't take very long until I was taking the next exit towards my destination. A galleria. Great. I had nothing against these kinds of shopping centers, but the moment they require paid parking is when I already think it becomes too – well – _fancy_.

I looked down inside my pathetic wallet with a sigh, before taking the fresh twenty I had just pulled out of the ATM earlier. Originally intended for gas this week, but I reluctantly accepted the loss with the parking lot ticket stub.

I sent a quick text letting him know I was here. The nerves hit me as I briskly walked through the parking lot. I picked up immediately on the fact that there were several couples. Not that that should have been so out of the ordinary.

Maybe I was just hyperaware of it now that I was on a date.

God even saying that in my head was too much.

I felt the heat on my cheeks. I hoped the people around me couldn't see how red I was probably getting. Thank god it was cold, I thought, as I stepped out of the parking lot entryway and into the main courtyard.

I stopped in my tracks the moment I glanced up. It was like some sort of Winter Wonderland.

(Which, I mean, like duh, considering it was just a few weeks away from Christmas).

The storefronts that enclosed the courtyard were bordered with garland and dangling snowflakes. String lights hung across the circular field, creating a soft halo across the numerous people beneath them. A large artificial Douglass Fir was placed in the middle, decorated in tinsel and large golden ornaments. Lights also shimmered down along the green body, giving the overall fake tree an incandescent sparkle that could probably be seen from miles away.

Although the weather could probably leave much to be desired, the unexpected rain only seemed to complement the winter vibes. I mean, I almost quite literally slipped on the wet cobbled pavement in the middle of my glazed wonder, but it didn't lessen my appreciation for the aesthetic.

Okay fine, maybe I was a little impressed with the chosen venue. And maybe I was beginning to forget about the absence of my twenty and the rain that had shifted into a light drizzle. And maybe, just maybe, the nerves about arriving late for my date were starting to fade.

_My date._

Ugh, there it was again.

It was as if I had put that thought away, and finally began to associate the words Roxas and date together again in the same sentence.

I felt something sour in my stomach.

I saw him then. I was grateful I spotted him first, because it gave me a chance to flatten my hair a bit from the frizziness. He looked nice. I mean, not that he ever really looked bad. Because he didn't. It was just a different experience seeing someone outside of the monotonous confines of work. Plus, the uniform wasn't really flattering on anyone, if I was being honest.

(Neither was the Patrick Star t-shirt).

He was in a pair of dark wash jeans, and a black sweater that made his shoulders look sharp. His honey blonde hair poked out from under the hood, catching the light drizzle that fell down on all of us. He adjusted the hood, before moving to bring his gloved hands to his mouth to keep warm. Fingerless gloves, huh. That was an interesting fashion choice.

The more I stared at him, the more I felt like he really did belong in this scene, blending in absurdly well. This Winter Wonderland I had painted in my head.

He looked like the hopeless romantic that spent the entire day on the icy streets of a big city searching for his long lost love. Probably some kind of tortured artist that fell in love with his muse. I could see it in the way that he moved, with large strides. In the way he carried himself, with a slight hunch that didn't show off the extension of his true height. Like he was trying to shrink away from all of the lovely couples around him.

I didn't want to interrupt it. I wanted to keep it, frozen in time. I was more than happy just looking in on the scene, several feet away… that is until he finally spotted me.

He didn't break out into a wide grin. Not that I expected it. I didn't think that was really his style. He simply waved, before stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking towards me.

"I made it," I said. "Sorry for being so late. Did we miss the movie?"

God, even up close he gave off more of that winter aesthetic. Pale skin. Electric blue eyes, gleaming with a soft glow from the Christmas lights.

Said eyes had given me a once over through the wet blond fringe. I tried not to flush under the attention. I hadn't felt this unwavering gaze since the moment he handed me his number.

And then I realized quite suddenly the more the silence went on, I had to spend time with Roxas – _alone_. What would we even talk about?

"Nah, we're good," he finally said.

I felt a small wave of disappointment when he looked way. What was I expecting? A compliment?

It wasn't like I spent three and a half hours fretting over my hair and make-up.

We stood there awkwardly, until he turned on his heel. Okay, was I just expected to follow him? He looked back expectantly. Oh, apparently I was.

I glanced down at the hand that was stuffed in his pocket. Did I want him to hold my hand? Or was this pressure in my chest just relief that I wasn't expected to hold his?

I was mystified by own thoughts the more we walked around the courtyard.

"My dad has this car." His voice broke through my reverie.

"Hm?"

"That one," he said, nodding towards the window before us. I looked up and saw a shiny bright red car displayed under bright obnoxious LED lights. It sparkled at us through the window, almost teasingly.

"A Tesla?" I questioned, annoyance dripping from my voice the moment I caught sight of the brand name. Now I really knew I was in some upscale neighborhood.

"Same color and everything."

Gross, I wanted to say. But the idea of insulting his father on our first date seemed like a terrible idea.

Our first date. More like the only date.

"An ostentatious bastard," Roxas muttered.

"You don't get along with him?" I asked tentatively.

"He's literal cancer," he stated plainly.

I flinched. There it was again. That offensive, offbeat humor that I wasn't sure whether to laugh at or offer an educational reprimand. I had just expected people to know better. Act accordingly, especially with people you hardly knew. But he didn't seem to care.

I could almost admire that individualism.

I swallowed thickly, trying not to show how perturbed I was.

"So is he also a cancer, too?"

"What?"

"Astrology."

"Oh, well I don't remember when his birthday is."

Okay, so it clearly was a really bad relationship.

I was hoping for a subject change. Anything to lighten the mood that was seemingly heading off towards the deep end. But he had other ideas.

"What about you? Do you like your parents?"

Our walk had come to a close near the tree. I glanced up at the nearest ornament, catching my reflection against the golden, glass body. I was prettier than what I normally looked like, due to all of the makeup I'd applied. My hair was losing its sleek texture from the hour I spent flat ironing it. But it still cradled my face in a way that was flattering.

Roxas was hovering behind me. He was way taller, so his head was distorted on the curve of the ball. But I tried to picture it. It was kind of surreal. It was actually happening. I was in the middle of a date.

"Yeah," I finally said. "My mom is my best friend."

He let out a low, airy whistle. I turned to him in surprise.

"Is that weird?"

He shakes his head. "Nah."

But his silence was deafening. I felt like I was obligated to explain my apparent mediocre answer. Compelled, even more so, by his tight lipped smirk. I wasn't expecting this kind of reaction. Sora hadn't reacted this way when I explained the relationship I had with my mom. In fact, he found it endearing.

_But Sora isn't here, you moron._

"I tell my mom everything," I continued hotly, and I almost cringed at how childish it sounded the moment it came out. " _We_ tell each other everything."

"Surely not everything?"

"Everything," I snapped.

He seemed to mull this answer over for a moment. "I wish I had that kind of relationship with my parents."

I didn't know what to say. Again, I didn't expect him to react that way. The more he kept reacting the more lost I felt trying to keep up with this conversation. As we stood in silence, watching the tree before us, I realized this was about the longest conversation we'd ever had. Not that we ever really had the chance to talk during work, but I knew for a fact that I had spoken to nearly all of my other coworkers more than I'd talked to him.

We made our way back around the courtyard. He was walking faster, a few paces ahead of me, which kind of annoyed me. Weren't we on a date? Weren't dates supposed to walk together? I mean I knew he probably had two feet ahead of me in terms of height so his strides were naturally larger, but come on. The slick pavement and the heeled boots I decided to wear made me even slower.

When I realized we were walking in the direction of the movie theater, my irritation began to melt. Maybe the sudden urgency was making the show time? I didn't know. But he surprisingly held the door open for me.

He ordered the tickets, and before he could pull out his wallet, I offered the cashier my card. It was another bite to my already low funds, but I had already come into this knowing I would probably spend a lot of money. Simply because of –

"It's a birthday present," I said quickly. His eyes widened and mouth fell open in a small 'o'. Wasn't expecting that, huh asshole? But what _I_ wasn't expecting was the small flush that graced his pale cheeks.

Oh. Oh no.

I nearly ripped the card out of the cashier's hand when she gave it back with our tickets.

"How did you know?"

I felt unbearably hot beneath the bright theater lights and his blue gaze. I tried to reflect the easy nonchalance he frequently adopted, but it was becoming increasingly difficult the more he stared at me.

"They mentioned it at work," I said with a shrug.

His face grew solemn.

"You didn't have to do that."

I knew I didn't. But I wanted to. And I didn't know how to articulate that without it coming off as romantic. It wasn't like that. I would have done it for anybody. I wasn't some heartless person that denied people common courtesy, even if it was fleeting. Even if I felt they didn't deserve it.

But I was on a date. And I knew whatever platonic and/or romantic boundaries I wanted to set were already beginning to blur.

_This is your own damn fault Kairi._

"It's whatever." I waved him off dismissively.

He seemed to have accepted that answer.

We waited on the benches outside the theater room until it started. I was so wrapped up in my own head I wasn't paying attention to what we were even going to watch. An animated film. Something based off a comic book hero.

It irritated me how much I looked forward to watching the movie.

It was almost as if he had strategically crafted this entire thing. Like it was his evil plan to seduce me with the prospect of my niche interests, coaxing a yes out of me with his birthday lingering over our heads. How he knew I had an affinity for animation was beyond me? I wasn't sure I ever gave any kind of inclination at work?

I wracked through my brain trying to think of something I had said out loud this week. To be honest, I wouldn't have put it past me to make some kind of personal remark in the midst of my boredom.

Okay, so maybe this one was my fault.

I huffed in my seat, stuffing my ticket stub in my pocket. He slouched in his seat, slinking further down the cushion of the bench. I watched as the back of his blonde hair got rumpled from leaning against the wall. It was minuscule – this urge to flatten it down the back of his head. I curled my hand into a fist in my pocket.

People walked by us, families, singles, even other fellow couples. Some regarded us with a friendly smile when our eyes met. I couldn't help but feel incredibly vulnerable beneath their occasional gazes. I couldn't help but feel Roxas and I looked so entirely unconventional and out of place sitting beside each other.

I tried to picture it from the outside. I was sitting primly, one leg folded over the other, while Roxas was slumped beside me. It filled me with a sense of dread at the stark contrast.

But perhaps my anxiety was really rooted in the possibility that there wasn't anything unconventional about the sight at all.

I glanced over at him, to find him looking straight ahead. In other words, away from me. Irritation flickered in my chest.

_If you plan to take a girl out the least you can do is look at her._

I shifted in my seat, hoping he'd get the hint that I was riddled with obvious discomfort, but when he made no acknowledgment, I felt something inside me wilt. I tried to spend the next few minutes on my phone, but it didn't help. This was so stupid.

I wasn't sure why I was so hell bent on trying to get his attention. I should've savored this alone time with my thoughts and not be forced to converse with someone I didn't even really want to be with.

But the more I stared, the more I wanted it. I chalked it up as my nerves. My annoying habit of trying fill up the conversation with mindless babble to cover for the fact that I was uncomfortable.

I cleared my throat, before letting out a short fake laugh. It caught his attention.

"I think the Jersey Shore is making a comeback…for the millionth time," I said, holding up my phone and showing him the post I had been looking at. His eyes scanned the screen, before he chuckled. It was like my heart let out a huge relieved sigh at the sound.

"Like we need any more trash TV."

"Hey! I loved that show."

"No you didn't," he said in disbelief.

"Yeah! It was a classic," I argued.

He shook his head, an incredulous smile painted across his lips. A wave of satisfaction hit me. I recognized this kind of interaction like the back of my hand. I knew this playful banter. I could work with this.

I would say something in defiance, and he'd quip back with something that would ultimately not be that funny. But I would laugh anyway. Because boys loved when you laughed at their lame jokes. I would laugh at whatever Sora used to say. I mean, he was funny, in his own way. The majority of the time I think I would laugh _at_ him, rather than with him. But it was one thing I had missed the most.

I felt my own smile falter at the thought.

"You know," Roxas' voice reeled me back in. "I think Hayner looks like Pauly D."

"What?"

"Think about," he said, smirking. He brought a hand up to his head, gently pulling at one of the stray locks of blonde. "The hair is as stiff as board."

I blinked. And suddenly I was bombarded with images of Hayner with a horrible fake tan, chapstick, and a deep Jersey accent yelling about cabs and grenades. I burst out in a round of loud, obnoxious laughter, alerting several people around us. I brought a hand to my mouth, to stifle the second round of giggles that were threatening to escape. But it was almost unrelenting.

I felt myself grow warm – and Jesus – this was beginning to get embarrassing. Roxas looked on with mirth, categorizing the different shades my face could turn, I was sure.

I wiped at my eyes, finally feeling the laughter taper off.

I was out of my element here.

"You good?" He teased.

"Shut up."

We sat in silence again, a comfortable one that surprised myself. I was usually the one preening in my seat to continue the conversation, despite how meaningless. But he was the one to continue.

"You like cartoons right?"

I pursed my lips, trying to fight the smile.

"You sound like a divorced husband trying to relate to his estranged twelve year old daughter," I responded sardonically.

He did a double take, before laughing. It was more like a hushed snicker. Like he was trying to hold back what I had unsuccessfully done. I felt myself swell with pride.

"That was weirdly specific."

My smile slowly faded. I leaned back in my seat, and uncrossed my legs.

"My mom is my best friend," I reminded.

His nodded gravely. He didn't offer anything else in response, but it wasn't necessary. The understanding that flashed through his blue eyes was enough of a sympathetic gesture, I almost cried. I, Kairi Lockhart, almost cried in my goddamn movie theater. And not from watching the 50th anniversary of Titanic.

As if noticing my sinking mood, Roxas quickly changed the subject.

"I used to draw," he said, holding up his hand. "I mean I still do, but I developed carpal tunnel so… kind of sucks."

I stared as he held it before me. They were large hands. I hadn't noticed when he was wearing the gloves earlier. He had long, pale fingers that seemed to stretch on. I was transfixed watching as he flexed them. They had looked soft, as if he moisturized. I didn't know why I was so hung up on that idea.

Maybe the thought of a guy moisturizing was attractive to me. God knows the gender was certainly lacking with certain grooming habits.

I glanced down at my own hands. They were small and stubby, looking more like hands that belonged on a newborn baby. Even curled up in fists, the knuckles barely popped out from beneath the skin. But his were defined, sharp, as if freshly sketched out on a blank sheet of paper. Proper adult hands.

And there it was again. Another urge. Another pull to reach out.

But I kept my hands to myself.

"So is that why we're watching a cartoon?" I asked.

"Yeah." He smiled sheepishly. Against my better judgment, I found it endearing.

The movie was about to begin, so we moved to our seats.

I tried to pay attention to what I was watching. But I was distracted. My head was running about a mile a minute.

_What am I doing here? Is he going to try to pull something during the movie? What about after?_

The very firm boundaries that I had vowed to myself were slowly starting to disintegrate the more I sat beside him. I was actually beginning to toy with the idea of this date. To entertain these illusions as if – as if I wanted something to happen.

The movie was over before I could comprehend past the opening credits. He hadn't tried to do anything during, probably too focused on the film. Something I probably should have been doing, considering I would be into this sort of thing. Now I was assed out of a movie and forced to deal with the residual effects of an unwanted date as we walked back towards the parking lot.

"Oh, um, I'm on the 5th floor," I muttered, gesturing towards the escalators.

"I'll walk you."

He was walking beside me now, matching my slow pace. Anxiety flooded my system at the implication of his words. Something was going to go down. Something I wasn't sure I was fully committed on. Thoughts overwhelmed me. Thoughts of him and… me. _One_ thought in particular.

One that, quite frankly, hadn't really passed my mind since –

It was too much, too soon.

I felt sick.

I couldn't go through with this. My legs felt like lead as we walked on. What was I doing? Delaying the inevitable? If worst came to worst I could just say no.

But the little voice inside me said that my 'no's' were pretty much broken. It was virtually impossible for me to use the word no. I mean, look at the direct consequence of my incompetence earlier!

When I saw my car in the distance, my nerves spiked.

"Okay, I'm over there," I exclaimed a little too enthusiastically. I sped forward, hoping this would be it. This would be the moment I would return to the safe confines of my tiny Toyota, and drown out my sorrows with a sugary _Ariana Grande_ song.

But he followed closely behind.

I clicked the car open with the key, offering him a hasty goodbye from over my shoulder. I almost said I'd see him at work, but was cut off when I felt a hand grasp mine.

Christ, it was as soft as I thought it would be. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling his hand slide down the short length of my palm, before coming to enclose the entirety of it.

"Wait," he murmured.

"What?"

I felt a soft tug, and I was stumbling backward, until he gently spun me back around to face him. And then I was overwhelmed by him. His arms, his towering body, his scent, the very clothes I had quietly judged earlier. It was everywhere, overpowering every sense in my body. Every sense of panic that had set off alarms in every nerve endings were slowed, as if being suppressed by some large electric surge. I was gridlocked by this sudden power outage, and I… I was savoring the short-lived darkness.

I inhaled sharply, trying to breathe back common rationality back into this sluggish perception of my current reality. But then –

"I just wanna hold you." It was the velvety words that were uttered near my ear that had been my ultimate downfall. That made the cold shiver slither down my body and made my hands shake against his warm sweater.

And I felt something flutter deep within my chest. It floated in soft waves down to the pit of my stomach, pooling there as if reclaiming its empty place. It was something I hadn't felt in such a long time. Something I thought had died last year, along with all of my youthful idealism and doomed relationships. But I recognized it. This feeling, threatening to push through all of my self-discipline. And with the recognition and fluttering, came the slow building dread as a result.

No.

This was the last place I wanted to be. I didn't want this. Not again.

_Please not this again._


	2. face it like a grown-up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which kairi denies, denies, denies

“Did he kiss you?”

“What?  _ No _ !” 

“So then what’s the problem?” 

“He...” I paused, squirming in my seat beneath the heavy scrutiny of my mother and Xion. I was just sitting at the dining table and yet it felt like I was in an interrogation room. 

This was all so stupid. 

“Well, he  _ hugged _ me.” 

I swallowed down the nervous lump that formed in my throat. I could feel the weight of their eager eyes on me as I let the words soak through the tense atmosphere. 

I was panicking -  _ again _ . It suddenly became my permanent state ever since I’d received that note. The very same note that had found a new home, jammed between the pages of my journal. A tiny, insignificant piece of information I was not willing to share with the two staring at me. 

“He hugged you?” Xion questioned, wrinkling her nose. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean _ that’s it _ ? A hug is a very big deal. A very blatant breach of my personal space. I don’t let just  _ anybody _ do that.” 

“She does have a point,” my mother defended from the kitchen counter. 

Xion pursed her lips, seeming to mull over our words.

“So you liked it?”

Immediately, I was brought back to the moment just a mere hour ago. The intensity of it was almost overwhelming. His arms around me. The snug fit, and the press of his sweater against my nose. The words that brushed against the shell of my ear softly. 

I felt my face burn at the memory. I cleared my throat, hoping to also clear the mushy thoughts clouding up my head. 

“ _ NO _ !”

“You’re turning red.”

“I am not.”

“You are, dear,” my mother chirped. She had set three steaming, coffee mugs on the table and sat to join in on the embarrassment. 

I covered my face, sensing the incriminating flush beneath my hands.

“It just caught me off guard,” I mumbled through my fingers. “That’s all. It hasn’t really happened since…” 

I couldn’t finish the statement. The words were stuck in my throat, refusing to come out. My rising anxiety had fizzled out quite pathetically, and soon I was forced to reconcile with the mopey feelings I had been desperate to avoid. 

I lowered my hands, wondering when I’d ever reach the point I could say a name without my whole world melodramatically falling apart. 

My mood was noticeably sinking. 

I reached for my cup, avoiding their sympathetic gazes. But it didn’t help much. I could still feel the shame welling up inside me for being so obvious about it. 

“You should give it a chance, sweetie.”

“She’s right,” Xion agreed. I could vaguely hear her slurping her tea before yelping for burning her tongue. “Who knows, maybe he’ll be your version of  _ The Notebook _ come true?” 

“Minus the infidelity,” I countered sullenly. 

“Okay.”

“And the manipulation.”

“Sure.”

“And the unhealthy, unrealistic view of love.” 

“Jesus.”

“How about we throw in the guy’s inability to accept no for an answer?” 

I was being a bitch. I knew that. But the more they prodded the more I dug my heels in. And the more I wanted this conversation to be over. 

Xion frowned. “You know, sometimes I kind of miss your gushing and all of your Nicholas Sparks philosophy.” 

I heard my mom hum in agreement. I peered over at her. There was a distracted, wan smile as she brought the mug to her lips. 

I knew she felt the same way as Xion. But I also knew it was probably deeper than that for her. She would be hitting her 13 year anniversary of being divorced. Not that that was really anything to celebrate. 

But I’d spent that time in my formative years watching my mom pull herself up and out of her loveless marriage to my father. And right herself in the world as a single mother. 

It was admirable. 

What was more admirable was how much she could still retain all of the hopeless romantic notions and spread that positivity around. Like just being around her made me want to believe. 

Except I couldn’t help but get visibly upset and sick every time I caught sight of Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams professing their love for one another on screen. When that was another reminder of a failed relationship.

The implication was very clear. They missed the old Kairi. The Kairi that knew  _ The Notebook _ verbatim. The Kairi who fantasized about a relationship. The Kairi who  _ was _ a hopeless romantic.

I blinked away the sting building up behind my eyes and huffed. “Well that was before I realized how bland and super hetero his books were.” 

Xion rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying,  _ The Notebook _ would be so much more compelling if Noah had been a girl,” I continued. 

“Is that why you won’t go out with Roxas?”

“What do you mean?”

“Because he’s a boy.”

I shot her a very flat look. 

“I don’t know. I figured you’d want to swear off them entirely or explore your other options. You know, considering. The whole Sora and Naminé thing....” Xion trailed off weakly, as if realizing suddenly she was saying too much. She winced apologetically. 

The mention of their names made something in my chest twist painfully. And twist until I couldn’t look them in the eye with an even composure. I swallowed the short gasp that threatened to come out, hoping that they hadn’t noticed. 

But it was difficult to remain unaffected and detached. Especially when the names were spoken, loud and alarming, dragging the ache out deeper. An ache that hadn’t really left since the day I was  _ dumped _ .

“Well it’s not like I really had anyone lining up at my door.” I forced out a short, unconvincing laugh.

Xion scoffed. “Please, I’m sure half the guys at work have tried to take a peek down that polo shirt.”

A disgruntled noise fell from my lips at the remark. It was an observation I hated to even consider. Not that i entertained the idea of false modesty (it was really flattering and the validity did wonders for my ego). But because it wasn’t enough. It didn’t temper the creeping dread at the mere thought of attention. Attention just led to more hurt feelings and I couldn’t afford to get tangled into another attachment.

Also,  _ ew _ . 

“Remind me to wear a turtleneck to work then,” I responded dryly. 

“Look, I know that men are literal garbage-,”

“Xion that’s not true. Not  _ all _ men,” my mother corrected. I pursed my lips, looking away. 

The downside to my mom’s romantic outlook on life was that she firmly held out hope for the day that I would bring back a husband and pop out a few grandkids. An appropriate number to her liking. 

_ The backwards heteronormative logic of it all -  _

“ _ Some _ men,” Xion conceded. She shot me a conspiratorial wink. “But it’s not like you’ve brought any girls home either.”

My mom’s face lit up. “That’ll give me an excuse to bring out the rainbow t-shirts I made us.”

And of course she’d flip the hyper conservative script by being the overly enthusiastic ally in the next second. 

I rubbed my forehead, irritated. “We don’t need rainbow t-shirts, Mom.” 

“Speak for yourself. I want a rainbow t-shirt,” Xion exclaimed. 

A round of laughter filtered into the dining room. I scoffed, and brought my hands to my face again. 

It was going to be a long night. 

* * *

A long night that hadn’t helped much when I arrived for work the next day. 

I’d slept through my third alarm. My coffee order was completely wrong. And it was fucking raining. Again. 

Granted, it was just a light sprinkle. But I was still dragging my feet to the hut. Along with the rest of the emotional baggage I wasn’t ready to acknowledge. 

It was fine. 

Everything was fine. 

Completely fine. 

As soon as I walked in and saw the back of the familiar blond head, the blood drained from my face. The weight of my stomach dropped. The soul left my body. Whatever. All of the above. 

I nearly backed straight out of the door. That is until I felt someone bump into me. 

“Oh - oh  _ Kairi _ !” I recognized the voice before I had to turn around. Pence, our shift lead member, stood behind me, slowly turning a deep red. I wasn’t sure if he was sweaty most of the time or just had a natural ability to turn different color shades at the drop of a hat. 

He stammered out a nervous apology. But it was enough; the damage had been done. Roxas’ attention had been caught. Thus my escape plan was pointless. His eyes moved over me immediately. 

This was what I was dreading. This part. This precise moment where I was required to look him in the face and resume our daily work operations as if I didn’t just go on a date with him. As if I didn’t know what his arms felt like around me. Or the way his chin had nestled so closely against my shoulder. Or how large his hands felt at the small of my back. 

His hair was swept up in its usual fashion. Like he woke up from being pressed up on one side of his pillow all night.

I was struck with something I thought would fade once the magic vibe of the date was over. An urge to reach out. Touch. Run my fingertips along the edges of the blonde hair. 

I was startled by the direction my thoughts were going. Rather, how quickly they had escalated to something physical and intimate. 

Had I been that starved for affection? That I was willing to get it from Destiny Island’s CornDog hut deviant?

It was a complete bodily betrayal.

The evidence was clear, the more I took in his ruffled appearance and the more I felt that swell of fond curiosity bubbling in my chest. 

To make matters worse, he  _ actually _ greeted me. It was just a simple, nonchalant head nod, and a low: “Sup.”

But it was enough. 

A blush bloomed across my face, revealing the very conflicted feelings I tried so desperately to hide. I curled my hands into fists at my side. I cleared my throat, hoping he wouldn’t notice my discomfort. I was sure it was as clear as day. As clear as the nametag I noticed hanging quite literally by a thread on his uniform shirt. 

What the hell was going on?

“Um…” 

I was struggling to come up with a response. 

Upon closer inspection, I realized that he had covered his tag with white out and in sloppy writing, was the name  _ Mclovin’  _ spelled across the freshly blank slate.

Okay, okay maybe I was freaking out for no reason. All was normal in the world.

“Hey. Mclovin.” I waved stupidly. And I knew it was stupid the moment the greeting fell from my lips because he had turned away with a smirk. It reminded me of the way he had smiled that night, fighting down the chuckle, only for it to end in a tiny snicker.

Suddenly I was pulled with this very strong urge to make him laugh because there was nothing more I wanted to hear.

“ _ Shut up _ ,” I snapped flatly, before coming up to my station. Roxas raised his hands in mock surrender, but the playful smile was still spread across his face. Another swell of pride. Another bout of stupidity. 

I huffed, but could only try to bite down the growing smile on my own face. 

Okay, I definitely  _ was _ overreacting. This was fine. This was okay. This was just a normal day of work. 

In fact, Roxas was barely doing any of the said work. His station hadn’t been set up. His uniform was not tidy. He still held on to that air of permanent boredom and insolence.

And when Hayner would inevitably clock in for his shift later, things would continue to move on smoothly. As if nothing was amiss. 

This was nothing. I could handle this. I was having a meltdown over absolutely nothing. 

Except …

Except I kept finding myself stealing glances. As if the moment I turned away he would disappear. The behavior was incredibly frustrating because no matter how much I forced myself to focus on the cash register in front of me I kept trailing after the messy blonde head. Hoping for …

_ For what? _

“You good?” Roxas’ voice pulled my attention instantly. He was hunched over the counter by his station, doodling on the back of a receipt. But there was a prominent smirk across his face. Like he knew exactly what it was that was making me so flustered. 

“What are you doing?” I snapped. “Your station isn’t even set up.” 

“Hm?” 

His attention was back upon the doodle before him. I watched how his face slowly became fixated on it. The way his lip curled in concentration. The focused look in his blue eyes as he bent over the scrap of paper. 

It was a good look. An inspiring one. I hadn’t seen that kind of expression in such a long time. 

I felt my chest twist as I realized what it reminded me of - or rather, who. Why this situation felt so sweet. Because it was such a familiar sight. 

Of days I spent watching her with the sketch pad propped up on her lap.

There was a lump beginning to form in my throat before I could stop it. 

He pushed the drawing to me across the counter. And when I glanced down at it a gasp fell out. 

It was a side profile of me. A very rough sketch but the distinctive features were enough for me to tell. 

“Oh wow. You’re actually, like,  _ good _ .” 

He let out a snicker. The sound was nearer than I anticipated. I barely needed to glance up to realize how close Roxas stood. 

He was leaning a forearm against the counter beside me. The half smile still intact. 

“Did you think I lied to you yesterday?” 

It finally happened. The acknowledgement that there was even a shared yesterday to speak of.

Roxas’ eyes were soft. Impossibly softer than last night, which I didn’t even think was possible. I was struggling with a timely response, my brain still stuck on the color of his eyes. 

_ Maybe it’s the lighting in here.  _

_ He does look a little more blonde than he did yesterday.  _

_ How does one become blonder overnight, you dumb ass? _

“No,” I said feebly. 

My cheeks were hot. I knew I must’ve started to turn the same shade as my hair. 

I felt Pence’s eyes on me. I looked up and was only met with the curious confirmation. He glanced towards Roxas, and then slowly met my eyes again. Foolishly, I had realized how self incriminating this whole interaction had been. Too familiar. 

I took a hesitant step away, and continued to prepare my station. 

“So, uh, guys,” Pence’s voice pulled me back. “Winter vacation hasn’t hit, so the park projections are a bit low today.” 

“Can I go home early then?” Roxas asked.

“ _ No _ ,” Pence snapped. “I’m gonna need help in the back. So I’ll be pulling each of you in turns to help me with the stock.” 

“Ah, yes, the hourly audits of Pence’s frozen wieners - I mean corn dogs,” Roxas chuckled. 

I snorted. Pence flushed and shot him a warning look. 

“I’m kidding. It’s my favorite part of the day,” he continued. 

“Anyway, I’m starting with you Kairi.” 

Roxas and I shared a look. And it felt good. Like I was part of some kind of inside joke. And then he did something he never used to before. Then again, it’s not like we used to go on dates before. He nudged me, and leaned down until I could feel his breath against my ear. 

“Have fun.” 

I shivered involuntarily, feeling that same chill creep down to the spot his arm brushed against mine. And yet, despite the chill, it was hot. So very hot beneath the thick fabric of the atrocious polo shirt.

I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat as I stumbled past him, nearly crashing into the counter.

The freezer gave me very little reprieve. But it was a welcome chill after feeling like my body was overheating. 

I truly was touch starved. Horrifying. 

Or perhaps Xion actually was right. Maybe this year of abstinence had been too long. 

I cringed. Xion was right about a lot of things. This? Definitely not. 

I was thankful Pence took a while flicking the light on so he wouldn’t immediately read the annoyance on my face. 

Pence cleared his throat awkwardly, before coming to look at me. Which was surprising, considering half of the painfully awkward times I’d been around Pence, he wouldn’t meet my eyes. And the other half I spent trying to ignore the sweat on his forehead and the blotchy color of his face whenever I’d directly addressed him. 

Xion’s words from before rang in my head. I quickly did up the first button of my polo shirt. 

“You know,” he began. I could hear the nervous tremor in his voice. “Dating within departments is against park policy.”

“Okay,” I responded slowly.

“It can lead to suspension.”

“I’m aware?”

He had stopped fiddling with the tablet in his hand, finger paused before the spreadsheet. “Well, I just meant… I noticed Roxas has taken a liking to you.” 

Okay this freezer thing was a bad idea. My mouth went dry. 

“What makes you think that?” I played dumb. But Pence quickly caught on because he lowered the tablet and let out something akin to a scoff. Or close to one. However close Pence was capable of. 

“I’ve worked with Roxas for years and I’ve never seen him that way.” 

The stupid part of me almost asked him to specify. Wanted him to go into excruciating detail, outlining the different ways my presence had made whatever noticeable change in him. I felt a familiar lightweight feeling in the pit of my stomach the more the burning desire blazed. It pulsed and pleaded until the question was on the tip of my tongue, but when I looked up and was met with Pence’s skeptical brown eyes, I faltered. 

This was bad. Very bad. 

Had it been that obvious we’d spent an evening off on a romantic escapade?

_ Romantic escapade? _

I almost winced at the thought. One date. It had been one date. Nothing more. And yet I had never felt more like I was keeping some dirty little secret. I swallowed thickly, training my gaze away. 

“We just work together,” I mumbled.

Pence studied me for a moment. I squirmed beneath his stare, hoping he’d turn away. 

“Roxas has issues. You’re better off not getting involved.” 

There was a sense of finality to his tone that gave me the impression he didn’t care if I responded or not. 

He went back to his spreadsheet, and continued counting as if this conversation hadn’t happened. But it did. And it was already sinking it’s doubtful claws around my senses. 

When I returned to the front counter I didn’t meet Roxas’ eyes. I kept my head bowed and hoped he wouldn’t notice the flipped emotions. But my luck had been rendered useless the more the day went on. 

I was getting distracted. More specifically Roxas was becoming a distraction. It wasn’t so much that he started talking to me more, it was just that I became hyper aware of his presence. Like I could sense his energy from the mere few feet between us behind that corn dog counter. 

I knew Pence was still watching us. A mindful eye that made me feel nervous and contrite. My smiles were forced as I spent the next few hours ringing up park guests. 

It felt like ages by the time I had been sent off on my lunchbreak. I could finally breathe, in fact I did let out a large, overdue breath as I pushed through the back entrance and tore my way towards the employee cafeteria. 

I considered texting Xion - even go so far as calling her. But I knew Xion didn’t like to be called. And work drama was specifically reserved for in person gossip.

The weight in my chest was heavy and sinking, threatening to rise back up and explode.

I was not in the habit of entertaining emotional volcanoes.

I reached the cafeteria and hesitated near the doorway. The cynic in me hated putting my money back into the theme park, as if the taxes hadn’t taken away most of my weekly check. But my pride was urging me forward. I didn’t bring my usual packed lunch because I had been too busy stressing out over the asshole back at the CornDog Hut. 

I let my head loll back, groaning out, directing my frustration towards the sky like I was in some kind of dramatic music video.

I shifted my feet, still deliberating. The decision had been irrevocably made, however, the moment my stomach rumbled and the very next when, I felt a gentle nudge against my arm. 

“Can I join you?”

I whipped around, startled, and immediately was flooded with anxiety as I looked up at Roxas’ smirk, hoping he didn’t just see that. 

“I’m in the mood for an internalized meltdown.”

So he did see that. 

“And probably some nachos,” he continued, not noticing my awkward fidgeting. He knocked his elbow against mine again playfully. “Come on.” 

I followed robotically, knowing my fate was doomed the moment he held the door open for me. 

It was -  _ different _ . 

I didn’t have much to compare it with, considering Roxas and I never really interacted until the date, but I could feel it - the difference. The small changes in the body language. How he spoke, gentle and curious. How his eyes would stay on me even when I had to look away. How he would hover. And he was so much taller than me, he practically towered over me. And I...didn’t hate it. 

I coughed uncomfortably, sidestepping away so I could breathe for a moment. I made the excuse of needing to look at the menu. Even though we both knew that the menu stayed the same 365 days a year (except on Christmas when they’d add cheap cocoa powder hot chocolate mix). 

We found a table after he’d received his order of large nachos and three cheeseburgers. I placed my order of small fries on the table and gingerly took a seat across from him. Almost instantly he began to inhale his food. 

I picked at my fries pathetically, watching as he started on his second burger. 

The sound of chewing and the background noise of the cafeteria television was slowly driving me crazy. My need to fill up the silence was practically begging me to say something. But I couldn’t. This was on principle now. 

Conversation was dangerous. Conversation led me to running my mouth and stupidly agreeing to things without realizing the dire consequences. 

And these particular consequences I didn’t need in my life right now. Clearly Roxas didn’t need it either, considering Pence had made a rather obvious implication of his problems. 

I really had enough to worry about than a potentially damaged boy who can eat three cheeseburgers in one sitting. 

I watched as Roxas lifted his head to flip his already ruffled hair out of his eyes. I was amazed at how it fell in the same disorderly fashion. As if he precariously styled it to look messy. 

He finished the last burger in three whole bites. I should feel disgusted. I should want to look away, but the more he sat there in my presence the more I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I was fascinated by him. This stranger stuffing his face, anticipating the moment he’d finally look up and say something. I was hanging onto it like a child trying to say their first words. 

It was silly and stupid. He was just a boy. An annoying asshole that somehow wormed his way into my intimate space. I was letting it all get to me. 

I leaned back into my seat, fully intending to drop the prospect of a conversation, when finally he said something. 

“You gonna finish that?” He gestured to my fries. I pushed them in his direction, unfazed at how quickly he inhaled those too.

“I don’t know how you can eat this food. It’s gross and it’s all going right back into the Mouse’s pocket.”

He shrugged, still chewing. 

“Food shouldn’t be wasted.”

I hummed in response. 

“Maybe you should spend money on food you do like.”

“Yeah, well, if we could somehow force Destiny Islands into opening a Korean barbecue pit, I’d blow every paycheck,” I muttered, only half aware of what I had just said. 

“I know a good KBBQ spot,” he responded furtively. My gaze flickered back to him. I noticed the way he was looking at me. It was the same way he had looked at me before he hugged me. 

Soft, shy almost, but yet there was a fiery determination that had captivated me. Rooted me to the spot, until I could feel the hints of a blush burning across my face. He was waiting for a response. But I was tongue tied and confused. 

I glanced away, wildly looking for some kind of out, something to prevent him from asking what I knew he wanted. My eyes landed on the television as a commercial for a theatrical rerelease of an animated film played. 

“They’re really gonna put  _ Hercules  _ back in the movie theater,” I said, nodding towards the TV. Roxas finally moved his attention to the screen. 

“Took them long enough,” he responded, distracted for a moment.

“Is Disney planning a rerelease of every movie?  _ The Hunchback _ ?” 

“A criminally underrated movie.” 

I scoffed. “A criminally underrated box office failure.” 

He glowered. 

“Literally the only good song in that movie is Hellfire,” I continued defensively. 

He opened his mouth to argue, but then promptly closed it, in defeat.

“Ha! I’m right,” I exclaimed, standing up in excitement. I had slammed my hands into the table, drawing the attention of a few diners near us. 

Roxas’ eyes widened at my sudden enthusiasm, before he fell into his familiar hushed snicker. The one that had me desperate for another one. 

I cleared my throat, embarrassed, settling back down. I ran a nervous hand through my hair. 

It was a good distraction. I had just needed a moment.

Unfortunately, a moment was enough time for me to also self sabotage. 

“But, yeah, I guess Hercules in the theaters isn’t so bad,” I said before I could stop myself. I knew I walked right into that one. I caught his blue eyes light up.

“Let’s go!” 

I could have melted right there in the cafeteria, seeped through the crevices of the hard plastic dining chair. 

There was almost a pleading tone to his voice, a playful sort of lilt. Like having candy dangled in front of a baby. 

His eyes scoured my face, still filled with mirth. I was the bumbling toddler drooling after a future dentist appointment. 

This was so stupid. 

He was trying to ask me out again. I knew it. I could hear the hopeful lift in his voice. But I didn’t know how to say no. The thought of having to see the disappointment on his face left a sour feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

“I think my break is over,” I burst out, rising from my seat. I glanced down at my phone for good measure and was actually shocked at how quickly the time had flown. 

I composed myself hastily, even going so far as to clear my throat in finality. But the ruse only went so far. I could see the disappointment creeping into his expression. 

And it crushed me. I hated it. Despised the pull of his eyebrows and the sad downturn of his lips.

Jesus this was beginning to get out of hand. 

“I have to go,” I muttered, chagrined. He wasn’t looking at me anymore. A silly desperation seized me. An urge for him to look at me. And it was ridiculous. The more I stood there trying to catch his eye, the more stupid I felt. 

I didn’t say anything more as I moved to leave. 

The walk back to the hut was lonely. And with each step I took, the more I felt like I had done something terribly wrong. 

The feeling swelled when Roxas finally returned to the hut. He didn’t say anything to me as he set up his station by the register beside me. 

I could feel Pence’s perceptive eyes on us, and I knew he could feel the tension. I kept peeking over at Roxas between helping guests. The casual indifference that was a permanent fixture in his face was still present but it was laced with something else. Something that made me feel even worse. 

_ This was what you wanted, right?  _

I was suffocating beneath it all. It wasn’t until Hayner finally clocked in for the mid shift that I was able to breathe. 

“Hey guys,” he greeted cheerfully. I wasn’t sure if his attitude was because of his schedule allowing him to come in at the reasonable noon hour or that venti sized Frappuccino he was currently slurping.

“Umm, where’s mine?” I pointed at his cup. He pulled the straw out of his mouth and held it out to me. “Ugh, gross.” 

“I don’t have cooties, chill.”

“Yeah she doesn't know where your mouth has been,” Pence remarked smugly. At this, Hayner turned to me. 

“Wanna find out?” He wriggled his eyebrows. 

I felt my face heat up immediately. “Uh, well, I don’t-,”

“Hayner shut up,” Pence barked. 

“I was just kidding!” 

“I could write you up for that,” he continued. 

It led to an argument that was mostly pleading on Hayner’s part. But I was only absently listening to their raised voices. I locked eyes with Roxas. 

I couldn’t shake the feeling. Like I was being studied. Like I was being pulled out from the inside. 

“Right, Kairi?” 

“Hm?” I blinked away from Roxas’ stare. 

“We’re only just messing around.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Sure.” 

* * *

The rain from last night returned in a downpour by the time my shift ended. I pulled the hood up on my jacket and had made an attempt for my car. But Roxas intercepted me. 

He held his umbrella out for me. And I mumbled a quiet thank you. 

We walked in silence. The only noise coming from the raindrops and sound of our wet sneakers, stepping over puddles. 

I was planning out my hasty escape when Roxas spoke. 

“You know you can just say no.” 

I almost dropped my keys. 

“What?” 

“To Hayner,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “To going out with me. It’s not a big deal.”

I blanched, completely off guard. I realized he was making an annoying habit of catching me off guard lately. 

However it was the last part of his statement that really sank in.

_ It’s not a big deal.  _

I was thankful for being given an out. I was relieved and felt the incredibly heavy weight of pressure lift from my chest. But it didn’t completely go away, just floated precariously within the same distance. Lingering in preparation for the next feeling bubbling up. 

And suddenly the weight fell back into my chest, pushing further down until it sank deeply in the pit of my stomach.

Disappointment. 

The intensity of it nearly left me speechless. Left me confused. Left me terrified. 

I glanced away from his impassive eyes. 

_ Breathe, moron.  _

“I know you think you’re being nice. But the nicest thing you can do is be honest,” Roxas cut in gently. And I was struck with the fragility of his tone, despite the accusation. Like the softer he spoke, the less it could potentially hurt me. As if the mere thought of causing anymore upset would kill him. 

But this consideration would kill  _ me _ . 

“Don’t feel obligated or anything,” Roxas continued. He ran a hand through his hair, which had become slightly damp already. 

“It’s not that…” I protested weakly. 

But it was  _ exactly _ that. Wasn’t it? 

This strange attraction had just become a manifestation of my own guilt. The guilt to always want to please. The guilt to bear the burden of discomfort among people. 

The guilt of trying to move on. 

I visibly shuddered. Immediately, he pushed the umbrella, until it completely shielded me from the rain. 

“You don’t like me,” Roxas stated plainly. 

The nerves racing in my body said otherwise. I didn’t know him enough to respond honestly. 

But I didn’t have to answer, thankfully. Because we both heard a loud curse coming from the car parked beside mine. 

I tried to hide my relieved sigh, as I moved from under his umbrella and peered over the car. 

There was a girl squatted beside the side of a beat up Honda Civic, muttering under her breath. Unintelligible muttering that suspiciously sounded like profanity. 

She was bent over her tire, I could only get a glimpse of the top of her brown hair. But it was completely drenched. I lowered my gaze, only to confirm my suspicion. She must’ve been out here in the rain for a while. She looked like she just got washed up on the beach. 

Tools clattered to the floor and the girl suddenly rose, giving the back tire a hard kick. 

“Stupid, motherfu- oh - uh hey.” The girl noticed us finally. 

What struck me first was how green her eyes were, beneath the glasses and the deep crimson shade her face began to turn into. And despite how pathetically close she resembled a drowned cat at the moment, she was pretty. 

She was incredibly disheveled, with messy hair half stuck to her red cheeks and her thick black frames slightly askew. 

She was a few inches taller than me. Springy. Noticeable enough that the wet cloth hung onto her thin frame. Her shirt was half tucked in, and there were dirt stains on the knees of her khakis. The nikes she was wearing were completely soaked through as well, though, that could’ve been because she was standing in the middle of a puddle. It was at this moment that I noticed the flat tire behind her. 

“Do you need help?” I asked. 

Her green eyes widened. I was still surprised I could see them through the water stained lenses. 

“Oh my god, yesss.” The eager exclamation made both Roxas and I exchange a look. He made a face. I cleared my throat, returning my attention to her. 

“Let me get my wallet.” I scrambled with my keys, feeling their eyes on me. It made searching for the right one that much more difficult. Which was stupid, since there was really only one huge bulky key amongst the many keychains clanking together. 

I popped open my trunk in search for my purse. I tried to block the messiness from Roxas’ curious eyes, hastily shoving the stray unused tampons from sight. 

“I think I still have roadside assistance coverage,” I said, mostly to myself, as I wracked my brain trying to remember if I made the renewal payment. I flipped through my wallet trying to find the insurance card. 

The girl chuckled nervously. “That would be so great. I’ve been here for like, an hour trying to change this stupid tire. I have no idea what I’m doing,” she admitted in defeat.

“I wouldn’t either,” I reassured. 

I heard Roxas sigh. And then suddenly he pushed his umbrella into my hand. 

“I’ll do it.” His voice was short. But I couldn’t detect any other form of annoyance, as he crouched down beside the tire. 

The rain was picking up again. I held the umbrella over Roxas as he worked, and gestured for the girl to huddle closer. The longer we stood there, the longer I had to my thoughts. The longer I had to stare. 

At the back of his hooded head. At his shoulders arched beneath the black sweater. At the large, pale hands gripping the wrench tightly. Proper adult hands doing proper adult stuff. 

I wondered how he learned how to change a tire. Perhaps it was just a thing all boys inherently knew how to do. Some sort of rite of passage they earned like the patches the boy scouts received. 

The more I stared, the more I realized I really didn’t know anything about Roxas. Nothing of substance. Nothing of what I could immediately observe. 

And the more I entertained these ideas, the more I realized I wanted to - know him. 

It was a dangerous thought. Wildly dangerous and stupid and so unlike anything I’d ever considered. 

Here he was, annoyed, in the rain, helping this stranger change her tire. All the while most likely harboring resentment for my inevitable rejection. And yet…

And yet I was endeared by the simple act of consideration he displayed. Charmed with his stubborn resoluteness. Fascinated with the rest of his personality I had yet to know. 

But one thing I was sure of. One thing that had been absolutely confirmed while we all huddled over this flat tire. 

Roxas was kind. 

“Thank you so much.” The girl’s voice pulled me away from my thoughts. “I don’t know how much longer I would’ve been out here if you guys didn’t show up. I seriously debated just heading in and dealing with this after my shift.” 

She brushed the hair from her face, and smiled sheepishly. She had freckles. Faint. But present across her cheeks. 

“You’re a new hire.” I looked her up and down, realizing belatedly she was in an almost identical uniform. 

“That obvious?”

“I would’ve milked the shit out of this and just called out,” Roxas huffed as the tire finally popped off. He grabbed the spare and began aligning it. 

“That wouldn’t leave a good first impression. Not that the uniform will either,” she sighed, looking down at her clothes. 

“Sea Salt Shack?” I nodded towards the bright neon blue polo in question. I caught the engraved frozen yogurt shop name across her chest. 

“Hm, yeah,” she muttered, playing with the hem of her untucked shirt. “It’s kind of ugly. I guess the oil stains give it flavor, right?”

“At least you don’t blend in with your uniform,” I deadpanned, tugging at the collar of my shirt poking out of the jacket. “I’d say anything’s better than these candy cane stripes.”

A flash of green, and the girl was observing me, amusedly. I fidgeted on the spot from the attention. 

“I think stripes suit you just fine.” 

A strangely tense moment passed. One that had me vaguely registering the clanking of tools beside us. A cough broke the stare and I tore my gaze away. 

“Tire’s done,” Roxas mumbled. 

The girl chuckled nervously. “Well that’s solved. This is gonna be a whole other issue.” She looked down at her stained pants. 

“I think I have an extra pair of pants, hold on.” I returned to my trunk, carefully tossing things out of the way without making it look like so much effort.

I found the pair and pulled them out with a flourish. “We’re probably not the same size…” 

“Perfect!” She took the proffered khakis and hurried back to her car, popping open the driver’s door. “Hey do you mind being my wall?”

“Your what?”

“So I can change.” 

Roxas raised a brow, glancing from me to the girl behind me. “Well, I’m gonna go.” 

His expression was weary. A deep part of me felt -  _ knew _ \- it had nothing to do with the flat tire he toiled over for the past half hour. 

“Wait!”

“What?”

Without thinking, I reached out and clutched his wrist. I could feel the heat of his skin beneath the checkered bracelet he wore. My fingers twitched against the fabric, seeking something. Something hotter than the worn bracelet. 

Roxas stared down at my hand, firmly wrapped around his wrist, before slowly trailing back up to my face. His eyes narrowed curiously. Blue. They were so blue. It could’ve been exacerbated by the cloudy weather and the black hoodie he had thrown on. But they were bright and held my own in a hypnotizing fixture. 

Ocean eyes. Deeper than anything I’d felt since -

The beginnings of a blush were forming across my cheeks. I could feel the familiar warmth and it prompted me to release the tight grip of his wrist. He stared down at it as if he had been burned. 

I flexed my fingers into a fist, trying to ignore the heat flashing in my palm. 

“Sorry, um,” I bowed my head, glaring down at my wet shoes. “I’ll text you.” I managed to blurt out, before hurriedly rushing to my car. Ignoring his feeble  _ okay _ , and the girl’s loud confusion. 

My heart was hammering in my chest as I sped off home, as fast as I could comfortably speed in the rain. 

I tried to organize the thoughts that were running a mile a minute but my head was an utter mess. 

A mess of fear. 

And anxiety. 

But worst of all: hope. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we'll see where this goes. thanks for reading. you have no idea how much of a relief it is to see that there are still roxiri shippers out there. they can pry this ship out of our cold, dead fingertips.

**Author's Note:**

> Personally, I prefer AO3's format over Fanfiction, so I mean... I expect to be over here more often. But I'll consistently post on both sites. Anyway this is up both here and on Fanfiction, so whichever you guys prefer. It doesn't matter. Even after all of these years, I am certified Roxiri trash. 
> 
> As always, reviews are welcome.
> 
> Also thanks for reading!


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